


sinking, burning

by partofitall



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:53:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partofitall/pseuds/partofitall
Summary: And for a moment, the horror of it all is nearly enough.You have to tell them,cries a voice in his head.You have to do something, you have to help.But the Raven—time, eternity, everything that was, is, will be—is so big, and Brandon Stark is so very small. The cries are distant and soft, pathetically weak.or, bran stark is still a little bit human when he watches king's landing burn





	sinking, burning

**Author's Note:**

> i've been thinking a lot about the implications of how bran must've known what would happen at king's landing, and this is the result

The first time he watches King’s Landing burn is before the first curl of flame leaves Drogon’s mouth, before _‘Dracarys!’_ falls from Targaryen lips. In his vision, he stands, turns in a slow circle as the city rains down around him. He sees it all.  
  
He sees Jon—who is still Bran’s brother, regardless of any Targaryen prince, regardless of his words to Samuel Tarly—walking sword-in-hand as Lannister soldiers and families alike burn alive among the flames of dragon fire that he helped bring to their doorsteps.  
  
He sees Arya—his barely-older sister turned survivor turned killer—stained with soot and ash, dark blood leaking from a gash on her forehead as she runs through the streets dragging a mother and child that she cannot save.  
  
He sees tens of thousands more innocent than either of his siblings, gone.  
  
And for a moment, the horror of it all is nearly enough.  
  
_You have to tell them,_ cries a voice in his head. _You have to do something, you have to help._ But the Raven—time, eternity, everything that was, is, will be—is so big, and Brandon Stark is so very small. The cries are distant and soft, pathetically weak.  
  
_(What is a city to the memory of forever? What are the screams of mothers to the rise and fall of empires? What is charred flesh and suffocating smoke to the Future that will eventually emerge from the other side of the flames? Daenerys Targaryen once thought the same, before a blade through the heart and a pool of crimson staining silver hair.)_  
  
He says nothing. He does nothing. He waits.  
  
The second time he watches King’s Landing burn, the world watches with him. Another sliver of Brandon Stark gives way, sinking down deeper and deeper below the surface. The world above is on fire, but it is beautiful under the sea.


End file.
